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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27830083">The Last Ditch</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohofcourse/pseuds/ohofcourse'>ohofcourse</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hunter X Hunter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, Threats of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 19:35:26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,130</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27830083</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohofcourse/pseuds/ohofcourse</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Hisoka is seeing to it that the Phantom Troupe is dwindling, so Chrollo tries to cut a desperate deal.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Hisoka/Kuroro Lucifer | Chrollo Lucifer</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>58</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Last Ditch</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is my first foray into Hisokuro!! I promise I haven't left Hisoillu behind, though :)  </p><p>If any of you happen to be waiting on the next springtime rising update, that will be coming soon! it's going to be one of my longest chapters so it's been taking a bit longer than usual.</p><p>Anyway, please enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>They met at a cafe, seaside, where yellow-striped umbrellas created a spider’s web of shade over dozens of wrought-iron tables, perfect for two. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sun was shining so bright that Hisoka had gone sleeveless, basking in the triangle of light that was coming in through a gap in the umbrellas. Despite the lovely weather, the cafe was empty, though that had been purposeful, just a quick call from Hisoka the night before. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chrollo was there already when Hisoka arrived, slumped in a chair, staring at nothing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was hilariously out of place--small and dark and resigned--amongst the laughing blue shoreline and the cheerful cafe. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hisoka sat down across from him and dug his hand in his pocket, looking for his usual pack of cards.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please, stop,” Chrollo whispered. Hisoka, in his time chasing the troupe, had gotten better with his cards. They flowed like one scaly body between his fingers. If Chrollo didn’t know any better, he would assume it was Hisoka’s Nen, but he could tell it was not: just skill, and nothing else. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stop what?” Hisoka asked. He wasn’t smiling, but he had been up until now, lips curving up like a villain as he tapped a wild staccato on the table with the rounded edge of a card. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stop taking them away from me.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chrollo looked like he hadn’t seen a proper sleep in ages: cracked skin at the corner of one mouth, hair mussed and falling over his eyes, and his eyes, big and wet and bloodshot. He scratched at his cheekbone and in its wake, Hisoka could see a starburst of reddened skin. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Look,” Hisoka said, and he fake-sighed, dropping his chin in his palm, tilting his head like he was listening to someone’s problems. “I know this isn’t--” Hisoka paused, his other hand waving in the air. Everything about him was so light, so unaffected, like he was floating a foot above the ground, watching the world trudge through mud. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know this isn’t pleasant for you,” he decided upon, seeming satisfied with his word choice. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chrollo was staring at him with eyes rimmed in red. He had his hands in his lap, and was rubbing them over and over each other, like he was trying to scrub them clean. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But, you know,” Hisoka went on, tapping his card against the table, over and over and over. “You kind of brought this on yourself.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can kill me,” Chrollo said and he brought his hands up on the table, turned them over like he was cupping a cricket in them and wanted to show it off. The pale, thin skin of his inner wrists flashed upward, as soft and vulnerable as the belly of a fawn. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know me,” Hisoka said, pouting slightly, “you know that’s not how I like to do things.” He gestured to Chrollo’s wrists and his wilting form and everything else with unconcealed disdain.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t have anything else to give you, Hisoka,” Chrollo said, both exasperated and on the verge of tears. “I don’t know what you want.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hisoka leaned forward and flicked Chrollo right where his tattoo was. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chrollo flinched like it was painful. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>know </span>
  </em>
  <span>what you want,” he gritted out again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Use that brain of yours then,” Hisoka said, leaning forward even further, dropping against the table so that he could look up at Chrollo’s tilted-down face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chrollo wasn’t crying, but his eyes were so wet with a mixture of despair and exhaustion that it was almost a sure thing soon. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re tired,” Hisoka said, genuinely sympathetic. He reached over the tiny wrought-iron table they were sitting at and gripped Chrollo at the nape of his neck. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gently, the way you guide someone very old, Hisoka pushed Chrollo’s head down until his cheek was pressed into the metal of the table and he was staring up at Hisoka with one, brilliant eye. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hisoka’s hand shifted up to card through Chrollo’s hair, thumb rubbing circles into his temple. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you want,” Chrollo rasped. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hisoka’s fingers dug into his scalp, and he felt the bite of his nails, but there was no blood. He just kept rubbing his thumb against Chrollo’s temple. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Chrollo tried to close his eye, Hisoka peeled it back with that same thumb and held it, even when Chrollo’s eye smarted and began to gather tears at the corners. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I want you to be the last one,” Hisoka said, leaning in so close that Chrollo could smell the bubblegum on his breath. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I want you to watch the last of your troupe--” Hisoka’s fingers dug into Chrollo’s head with such force that Chrollo thought he had changed his mind, that he would crush his skull right here and now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But then the pressure lightened.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I want you to watch the last of your troupe hunted down like rabbits.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hisoka--” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And then I’ll fight you properly and kill you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They didn’t do anything to you, Hisoka,” Chrollo whispered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hisoka let Chrollo’s head up, but it wasn’t a kindness. All the blood rushed into the cheek that had been pressing into the table, and already it was starting to purple. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hisoka stared at it with open interest. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, well, that’s what you get,” he said, leaning back into his chair. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Get for what?” Chrollo asked, though he sort of knew the answer already. Hisoka, for the first time during their meeting, was frowning, arms folded over his chest, lips twisted into a proper pout. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chrollo rubbed at his cheek and fought the urge to yawn--he wasn’t bored, he had just never been so tired in his life, like he had been blanched and patted dry and left to bake, like he was a real spider, writhing on the sidewalk as his legs were ripped off. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>One by one. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s what you get,” Hisoka said, punctuating every word with a tap of one of his cards against the table’s lip. “For having friends.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can’t--” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m done,” Hisoka said abruptly, standing up from his chair and stretching like a particularly smug cat. He put his hands on his hips and stared at Chrollo, at his smallness, the way he kept his hands in his lap. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Keep your head up, Chrollo,” Hisoka said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chrollo didn’t move. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hisoka got up close and lifted Chrollo’s head up with two fingers under his chin. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I said, keep your head up.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chrollo’s eyes were sparkling with real hate, bouncing and bursting like too-hot oil on the pan. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There we go,” Hisoka murmured, mostly to himself. When he removed his hand, Chrollo’s head stayed tilted up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I guess I’ll see you soon,” Hisoka mused, “at this rate at least.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How many are left besides you? Two? Three?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he got no answer, he shrugged carelessly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Either way, soon.” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>As always, comments mean so much to me!</p><p>until the next time, peace!</p><p>and my twitter can be found here: https://twitter.com/ohofcourses</p></blockquote></div></div>
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